


Blue Mountain Flowers for My Love

by jumpinglamps



Category: Skyrim
Genre: Anal Sex, Hair Pulling, M/M, Whiterun, hot spring sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 03:41:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19821808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumpinglamps/pseuds/jumpinglamps
Summary: “Have you never been in a hot spring before?”Farkas grunts, “I haven't.”Or, two dads having a good time on a private hot springs vacation.Do not repost my content anywhere, including unofficial 3rd party apps.





	Blue Mountain Flowers for My Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is incredibly self indulgent. Pls check out my Skyrim oc: https://twitter.com/jumpingeros/status/1149902306906972161?s=21

Blue mountain flowers: they're Lena’s favorite, mostly for their medicinal uses, but he also appreciates their delicate petals, their faint fragrance. That fragrance greets his nose as he blinks bleary sleep from his eyes. He turns to see a bushel of blue resting on his husband’s pillow and smiles, feeling warm and dopey, as if he’d just swallowed a spoonful of honey.

He'd has his suspicions Farkas was a romantic sort when he first joined the Companions, but there’s been an overwhelming sort of joy in seeing those suspicions confirmed in their marriage. The way Farkas’ face lights up like a spring morning when Lena comes home from a long journey, the way he seats himself nearby and twines their fingers together when Lena settles by the fire to read a new book to their girls. Lena’s heart positively melts every evening when he watches Farkas kiss each of their girls on the forehead goodnight.

Yes, Farkas is a romantic—for every harsh edge he has acquired as a warrior, there is an underlying, even greater softness. Which is not to say Lena finds the warrior in his husband unappealing; indeed, Farkas was knee-deep in dirt and snow, a ferocious snarl on his lips, the blood of their enemies splattered across his arms and face, the moment Lena first realized Farkas was the one for him. They were on a rescue mission, though whose recuse they were coming to was unclear. A friend to the Companions at least. The cavern they found themselves trapped in was dark, and they were forced to work off of torch light alone as Lena couldn't spare his energy for any magelight spells.

Lena could have handled the enemy that attempted to sneak up on him from behind. He absolutely could have. But it was nice not to _have to_. The twinkle of a blade and pained grunt and the man was down. But Lena couldn't be bothered to take his eyes off Farkas long enough to get a good look at his would-be assailant. The muscles in Farkas’ arms that Lena hadn't really taken the time to appreciate before that moment rippled as he yanked his great sword from the unmoving corpse beneath him. The flames from the torches around them reflected off the flecks of the dead man’s blood on Farkas’ sword, the armor covering his chest, the bits that managed to spray on his cheek. Then the snarl on his lips faded as he looked at Lena with that same expression he always wore, that look that said “lead on, friend” as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't just set a fire burning through Lena’s brain.

Lena makes his way downstairs to stow the bushel of mountain flowers in the medicine cabinet, reserving one particularly vibrant bud to tuck behind his ear. Judging by the way the sunlight drifts in through the windows, it’s late in the morning, so Farkas is probably at Jorrvaskr already, dropping off the girls. Lucia and Sophie love the Companions, and they are loved in return. Aela particularly seems to relish the opportunity to give them both sparring lessons. Lena swears Lucia has started sounding more and more like Aela over the past few months when she's practicing on the straw dummy in she and Sophie’s room. It's as comforting as it is unnerving to watch such a small, sweet child grow so strong and ruthless.

A creaking from the front door and familiar big warm hands are wrapping around Lena’s waist from behind. Farkas’ chin slots on Lena’s shoulder and he murmurs, “Good morning, my love.” Lena hums in response, rubbing his hands along the strong arms at his middle. He leans back into the lips Farkas presses to his ear, his neck.

“Are you ready to go?” Farkas keeps his voice low, even as they part. Thrill bubbles in Lena’s stomach, and he can tell from the tightening grip on his hips that Farkas feels the same.

Today will be the first time he and Farkas have ever taken a trip into the wilds of Skyrim, just the two of them, just for _fun_. There is no one to save or avenge, no beast terrorizing townsfolk that needs stopping. Today, they'll be trekking to a hot spring Lena spotted along his travels a few weeks back. He had no time to bathe in it when he first came upon it, but he’d seen some other travelers relaxing in the water and made a mental note to stop there again. Farkas had seemed enthusiastic when he mentioned the spring in the retelling of his travels, and they'd made their plans quickly after that.

Luckily, they both travel light. Neither of course without their protective gear, a few weapons, some bread and leaks to go with whatever Farkas hunts for them. They each strap a bedroll to their backs and set off into the chilly afternoon.

Lena doesn’t have very many memories of his life before Skyrim, but gods, is he glad for whatever path it was that lead him here. The lands of Skyrim are as beautiful as they are harsh, much like the people, he supposes. The sun is already high in the sky, highlighting the snowy tips of distant mountains. All around them, life rustles in trees and tall grasses, it chirps and flutters. The land itself seems to breathe with Lena’s every sigh.

At some point, Farkas’s hand finds Lena’s own, and isn't it the most natural thing in the world? Walking hand in hand with the one who holds his heart.

It's not long before they reach stretches of land Farkas doesn't recognize. Farkas’ adventures have taken him mostly north and east, never this far west of their home in Whiterun. Farkas isn't one to babble, but Lena can see the questions flickering behind his gaze at each new landmark, each new rock and flower.

It's an easy sort of silence, traveling with Farkas. Lena will occasionally point something out on the horizon if it holds a memory for him, if only to watch Farkas’ eyes light up in curiosity. He can't remember a time when he last got to travel like this, with nothing to hurry his step, no peril to rush into, to follow him.

The hot spring isn't far, but at their leisurely pace, it’s early evening by the time they finally reach the bubbling springs and start to look for a good place to set up camp for the night. They find a flatish patch of earth under a rocky overhang and roll out their bedrolls, set up their packs and equipment. Farkas wanders off to catch their dinner while Lena gets a fire going.

Dinner takes longer to prepare than is strictly necessary. Farkas is a fast hunt and Lena, an efficient cook. But Lena’s barely got meat over the fire when Farkas’ chilled fingers find their way under his tunic, and then Farkas is kissing his neck and tugging his hair from its low ponytail and if dinner ends up a little over-cooked, neither of them say anything about it.

Lena’s skin is buzzing in the cool night air by the time they've finished eating and find a hot spring to settle in. They haven't been able to keep their hands off each other as they eat, fingers skimming under tunics to draw circles on warms patches of skin, lips grazing when they can't stand simply looking anymore.

There's always an air of restraint in their physical affections. Whiterun is one of Lena’s favorite places in Skyrim; it's home, but privacy is something of a foreign concept to all their friends and neighbors. There's of course not a private moment to be found in Jorrvaskr, with the Companions, or even really a private space. Neighborhood children and even the city guards walk in and out of their home as if it were town square, playing games, sharing gossip. Their most recent stretch of unbothered “alone time” in Lena’s memory was about two months ago, on a dragon hunting adventure. A trip in which the ice breathing dragon and surprise band of enraged bandits made intimacy an impossibility.

The knowledge that they're now entirely alone for the first time in months is making the idea of taking their hands off each other long enough to stand up and walk over to the springs unappealing, impossible even. So they compromise. Farkas’ hands stay under his tunic, roaming between his hip and stomach while Lena’s fingers explore Farkas’ chest as they clumsily make their way toward the sound of gentle waters.

They pick a spot with a higher rocky edge and part begrudgingly to strip out of their clothes. Lena slides into the water first, sighing as the bubbly warmth envelops him, seeps into his wound up muscles. He looks up at Farkas, not allowing himself to be distracted by the pillowy chest muscles and the half-hard cock now directly in his line of sight.

“Are you alright, dear?” Lena’s voice might be the slightest bit horse. But Farkas seems to be hesitating for some reason. Could it be that he’s… “Have you never been in a hot spring before?”

Farkas grunts, “I haven't.”

“It's not so different from a hot bath,” Lena offers.

“I've never been in one of those either.”

Farkas frowns, and Lena chews on the inside of his cheek, considering. He's about to offer to cast some magic to ease the temperature a bit when Farkas startles him by leaping in, sinking into the spring all the way to his shoulders in one quick movement. Lena tries and fails to stifle a little yelp as he’s splashed in hot water. Farkas is worryingly frozen for a moment before he eases backward to lean against the rocks next to Lena. He murmurs a soft apology before pulling Lena close with an arm around his shoulders and kissing his forehead.

They relax into each other, their heated touching posponed while they let the warmth from the spring take away the strain from their backs. Then Lena lets his fingers trail through the dark curly hair on Farkas’ chest, follows it down to the small patch at his groin. Farkas’ softened cock twitches under his fingers, and Lena smiles into the crook of his shoulder.

Farkas grunts soft and low in his ear and spreads his legs a bit to give Lena more room to work. Lena’s hand is slow through curly dark hair, along the skin of his inner thigh. He feels more than hears Farkas’ breath hitch when his fingers find the soft skin of his cock, dance along the length of till it's firm enough to stroke. Just a few, lazy strokes and he changes direction to take Farkas’ balls in hand, shifts up enough to lick and bite at the salty skin of his neck and collar bone.

The hand on Lena’s shoulder squeezes him closer and glides, soft down his back to take a handful of his ass. Then Lena decides he wants to be closer than this angle will allow and tosses a leg over so he’s straddling Farkas’ lap. Which Farkas seems agreeable to as he quickly takes Lena’s ass in two handfuls and uses it as leverage to pull him even _closer_ , enough for the various scars on their chests to touch. Their lips meet and it's sloppy and there's too much tongue in his mouth but Lena still leans in to try and close even more space between them, feel _more_.

Arousal pools, molten between Lena’s legs, and Farkas, as if reading his mind starts thrusting his hips up against the bud of his cock, rubbing their most sensitive places together. Hands massage rough into his ass, the arm muscles Lena admires so much flexing to bring Lena’s hips into rhythm with Farkas’ own. The sounds they’re making are too loud to Lena’s ears, everything amplified by the sloshing water, the echo-y wet rocks, but he can't bring himself to care. He loves being close to Farkas like this, feeling him. He wants to feel him deeper, _more_ , tells Farkas as much in bitten out, hitched breaths.

Farkas moans, “I want you, love.”

“Yes, _yes_ ,” Lena gasps and a hand leaves his ass to tangle into his long hair, pulling just enough to tilt his head back and give Farkas’ mouth room to bite and kiss at the expanse of his throat. Heavy breaths are hot on Lena’s throat, tongue messily pressed flat against his skin. In one motion, Farkas tugs hard at Lena’s hair and thrusts up, rubbing them together, and Lena chokes on a low moan.

It's good, it's _so good_. The hot water has Lena’a muscles feeling like warm putty, their every movement together sending little jolts through his fingertips and toes and in this moment, he feels certain Farkas could bend him any which way he liked, could braid his body like a loaf of celebratory bread.

Slowly, the tension in Lena’a hair slackens and his head is guided upward for a wet, gentle kiss. He barely registers that he’s being spun around until their kiss breaks.

“Can you hold yourself up on the rocks?” Farkas’ voice is like a crackling fire, warm and tempting. Lena agrees without a second thought, grabbing on the solid rock face in front of him and pushing his ass out. A peek over his shoulder tells him he’s done the right thing—Farkas’ eyes are wide and dark, hands grabbing at skin simply because they can, kneading, pulling, caressing. One of Farkas’ calloused fingers finds his cock and has Lena pressing a whimper into his own arm.

Then it's two wet fingers pressing at the pucker of his ass. Just that gentle, insistent pressure, and then he's in, a soft “Beautiful” dripping from his lips and into Lena’a brain.

His fingers move slowly in and out, taking their time to curl and caress, a thumb prodding at his cock just to make him moan. Lena’s knees are already shaking beneath him despite the aid of the water, and he wonders if he’ll be able to keep his promise to hold himself up after all.

No sooner do the fingers leave him than he feels the silky head of Farkas’ cock line up in their place. Large hands cover his own, fingers lacing together as Farkas presses in, drawing gasps from both of them. It's agonizingly slow—Farkas is rather thick, and it always takes Lena longer than he would like to get used to the feeling. Even now, he feels nerves thrum low in his stomach, eager to get to the good part now, _now_.

He bites his lip but can't quite bite back the whine creeping up the back of his throat. Farkas shushes him, coos low by his ear and nudges a little further in. He wants to touch himself, take just a bit of the edge off but Farkas squeezes their hands together, effectively pinning Lena against the rocks. Which is admittedly, very arousing. He melts under Farkas’ bulk, feels Farkas’ approving hum along the shell of his ear.

Two more insistent nudges, and their hips are flush together, Lena feeling incredibly, achingly full. He squeezes Farkas’ fingers, breath heavy in the warm, steamy air. Farkas mouths at his ear, noses along damp strands of dark hair. He murmurs words of love, and Lena shivers as they sink into him.

Once he becomes accustomed to the stretch, Lena tries and fails to wiggle his hips back to get some friction. Farkas holds him virtually immobile, surrounding, all-encompassing as their position is. But Farkas seems to understand and starts to slowly move his hips. A drag back, a slow glide in, another drag, another glide. It's verging on too gentle, and Lena’s poised to ask for more when Farkas suddenly snaps his hips on an inward movement, punching a moan out of Lena’s open mouth.

“Good?” Farkas drags back and thrusts back in again, hard enough that he seems to drive in even deeper than before.

“ _Yes_ ,” Lena’s knees wobble with the effort of keeping his hips up. Farkas, wonderful Farkas untangles their hands and reaches down to hold Lena’s hips up with a sturdy arm, the other wrapping around his chest, fingertips settling loose around his throat. And Lena is so utterly surrounded, so safe. Farkas rocks them together, slow, decadently harsh, and Lena is floating.

Their pace never quickens, never needs to. They float, warm, burning from the inside out for what feels like hours. At some point, Farkas finds Lena’s cock again with his thumb, rubs at it, languid and intense until Lena sees stars, chokes out Farkas’ name one more time before his muscles turn to warm, satiated mush. Only then does Farkas move faster, hips quick and harsh, arms holding Lena ever steady as he pistons his cock in and out of Lena’s now oversensitive, shivering body. His hips stutter with a breathy “Love you,” and Lena feels him come deep inside, hot and pulsing.

They stay connected as they come down, Farkas winding his arms around Lena in something resembling more of a hug. He rocks his hips gently, dragging out their aftershocks, sending little sparks of sensitivity along their spines, until he softens completely. Only then does Farkas pull out and rearrange their bodies to relax in the water. They don't stay very long however, both feeling a bit light headed. Eventually, they dry off with some spare blankets and relax in their bedrolls, dragged close enough together for them to tangle back into one another again.

Tomorrow, they'll trek to the nearest town and shop for a new dress for Sophie, a new wooden sword for Lucia. But for now, they worry only about their arms around each other, the stars above their heads, the warm embers of the fading fire nearby. Lena falls asleep somewhere in the middle of telling one of his many adventure stories, with Farkas’ lips pressed to his forehead.


End file.
